


To Be Just Anyone

by paperclipbitch



Category: Captain America (2011), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Blow Jobs, Bucky is literally always a rentboy in my head okay, Fisting, M/M, PWP, Porn, Rentboys, Well not when he's underage but other than that he's always a rentboy, yes I genuinely ship this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 03:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/pseuds/paperclipbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. <i>"I draw the line at blowing you in alleys with dumpsters, rats or dead bodies in them," he says, because he gets the feeling that Loki needs these things clarifying.  "And I charge extra for the presence of hoboes."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Just Anyone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [War_Kitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_Kitten/gifts).



> [Title from _Welcome To The Ball_ by Rufus Wainwright] Ahahaha oh God. So, okay, slight explanation: I have a trans-Atlantic texting group chat going on with a few friends, and we all decided that Bucky is basically always a rentboy in all things ever, he just is, and somehow that lead to Liz and I shipping Loki/Bucky to a stupid hardcore extent, and I said I’d write some porn, and this happened because I can’t write porn with less than 2000 words apparently. I might make this a verse – Liz and I have a whole plot, whyyyyy etc – but either way, have porn! In which Loki is handwavily rich and Bucky is a rentboy and then there is fisting! Anyway, if anyone wants to ship this frankly stupid ship too, that’s cool.

"One of these days," Bucky murmurs, "I'm actually going to get to try some caviar."

"It's overrated," Loki responds, thumb still tracing tiny circles on the inside of Bucky's wrist under the stiff cuff of the shirt Loki decided was more appropriate than the one he showed up in.

"That's easy for you to say, I bet you grew up having fois gras sandwiches in your packed lunches," Bucky tells him. "Some of us live on ramen, you know."

"If you want caviar you can stay and have caviar," Loki tells him. He's still the faked-up image of propriety and dull manners like everyone else at this benefit, at least until you look at his eyes, which are bordering on the frantic. 

_Fuck_ , Bucky thinks helplessly and bites the inside of his lower lip. "Next time," he adds, "you should bring a date you actually want to _keep_ here."

"You and I both know there's no fun in that," Loki says, eyes still on the boring people in expensive suits who are apparently hosting this thing; timing is crucial when it comes to sneaking out of these things if you don't want a scandal or at least a very boring conference call, apparently. Not that Bucky would know; the most he ever gets out of these things is a couple of glasses of champagne and a couple of discreetly-slipped business cards, and last time he got bruises from the - really really swanky - bathroom sink. He thinks the bathroom thing might've gotten around a bit, though, because Loki has been very pointedly keeping them both in public view so far tonight.

Bucky's pretty sure Loki hasn't thought that through all that much since he can't actually keep his hands off him, but it's not exactly the _first_ time he's had an audience.

"Go," Loki murmurs, and Bucky pulls his wrist away from Loki's fingers and heads towards the doors he vaguely remembers them entering by. All these buildings blur into one after a while; ostentatious, cold, unfriendly and packed _full_ of people that Bucky doesn't want to spend a whole lot of time around. Still, there's free champagne, and it's a fun opportunity to watch Loki trying to act like a human being.

The hall outside is cool and marbled and also ridiculous, and Bucky can hear strains of conversation and a string quartet bleeding through the doors. He leans against the wall and waits until Loki has also managed to extract himself; he looks vaguely harassed and slightly annoyed, and Bucky grins at him right up until Loki curls his hands over his hips and kisses him, slow and too deep and tasting like expensive wine and just a little like bitterness. Bucky pushes back into it immediately; it's been far too long to pretend Loki _doesn't_ affect him, and anyway the guy's been insufferable all night, from nothing but a hand on his thigh in the limo here to tiny, barely-discreet, infuriating touches throughout the benefit. It's impossible to manage smalltalk and a smile when Loki Laufeyson is drawing shapes on your lower back with his fingertips, and Bucky kind of resents him for it. At least Loki seems to have wound himself up too; he's never been particularly good at teasing.

Loki is trying to drag Bucky's shirt out of his pants so he can get at skin, catching Bucky's lower lip between his teeth and tugging it just enough to hurt. Bucky is pretty happy to let this just happen, but he knows that Loki's still pretending he's not the kind of guy who would happily hire a prostitute and then fuck him in a hallway, so he pushes him back a little.

"Here?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

Loki's mouth is already wet and red and much too distracting, and this would probably be a lot easier if he wasn't _stupidly hot_. He lets go of Bucky's hips and steps back, looking kind of annoyed.

"I assume there are bathrooms here?" Bucky suggests, because while fucking in a bathroom - even if it has an ottoman in it - kind of lacks class, it's practically part of his job description and also well-worn territory for him and Loki. 

Loki shakes his head at that thought, scowling, and Bucky assumes that they really were not at _all_ discreet last time and someone got yelled at as a result. 

"Limo?" he tries, because while that's pretty clichéd too, Loki's driver is discreet and there's usually champagne in the mini bar.

"Just had it serviced," Loki responds.

Bucky's always liked the limo's leather seats because they're fundamentally wipe-clean, but, what the hell, it's not _his_ car. 

"Well, I'm all out of ideas," he says, and does come-hither eyes until Loki groans and steps away altogether.

"Come on," he mutters, heading for the elevator, and, well, that's something Bucky's done a _lot_ , although not with Loki. Which is kind of surprising, actually; it's one of the more obvious places.

Except this elevator has an actual guy in it in a uniform who presses floors for you because rich people can't navigate their own buildings or something, and Bucky leans against the wall and smirks at Loki and cocks his hips just a little more because the way it makes Loki's fingers curl into his palms is kind of awesome. Eventually, Loki pulls out his phone and starts tapping intently at the screen, and Bucky wills this elevator ride to stop as soon as possible before the whole place implodes from the tension in the air.

The foyer is mercifully empty and Bucky lets Loki grab his wrist and tug him after him.

"I draw the line at blowing you in alleys with dumpsters, rats or dead bodies in them," he says, because he gets the feeling that Loki needs these things clarifying. "And I charge extra for the presence of hoboes."

Loki makes an annoyed sound, like _Bucky_ is the one being unreasonable here, and waves his phone at him.

"What did you google?" Bucky asks. "'Nearest place I can bend the guy whose ass I hired for the night over'?"

"Yes," Loki replies.

"Huh," Bucky says. "Awesome."

'Awesome' leads them two blocks over to a hotel that Bucky is pretty sure Loki wouldn't be seen dead in if he wasn't thinking with his dick, but by now Bucky is pretty much solely thinking with his dick too, so he just sticks his hands in his pockets and lets Loki deal with talking to the bored-looking guy behind the desk. He hopes Loki checks them in under a hilarious false name, but Loki is speaking low and intent and Bucky can't quite make out the words. Eventually, he gets a head-jerk towards the elevator - Loki is such an ass sometimes - and he sighs and trails after Loki and their newly-acquired keycard.

The elevator clanks and creaks and shudders and Bucky briefly entertains the idea that they're both going to die in an attempt to get laid, and that's just tragic. Loki must catch some of this face because he points out: "I got you somewhere without hoboes."

"You insufferable romantic," Bucky replies, and lets Loki crush the words back into his mouth with a bruising kiss.

Once he's gotten them both safely behind a locked door Loki wastes no time in shoving Bucky's jacket back over his shoulders, leaving it to crumple on the floor - Bucky thinks about complaining until Loki sucks on his tongue and then his mind goes kind of blank - while his fingers skip over Bucky's spine through the thin material of his suddenly-too-warm shirt. 

Bucky nips at Loki's mouth in response, curling fingers into his hair now there's no one to notice if he messes it up or not, their breathing too loud and too harsh in the unfamiliar room. 

"You just like dressing me up in these fancy clothes so you can peel me back out of them, don't you?" he asks between kisses, sliding a thigh between Loki's and pressing into him, sinuous and as tempting as he can manage while still mostly-dressed.

"Took you long enough to notice," Loki responds, because getting laid doesn't make him any less bitchy, biting into Bucky's lower lip and then sucking at the sting. He's hard against Bucky's hip and his fingers are just a little unsteady as they begin work on the buttons of Bucky's new shirt. Bucky tips his head back, letting Loki string messy, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and down under the open collar of his shirt, keeping one hand in Loki's hair and sliding the other hand down to press against the hard line of Loki's cock through his slacks. Loki groans into Bucky's throat, hips jerking into his touch, and Bucky keeps tracing his fingers up and down the length until Loki bites into the skin of his collarbone.

"Hey," Bucky murmurs, "no marking the merchandise," and Loki sweeps his tongue over the spot, half-soothing, half-infuriating, before he pulls back, stripping Bucky out of his shirt and spinning him around to shove him forwards onto the bed. Bucky catches himself on knees and palms before he rolls over, sitting up to remove his shoes and socks while Loki slips out of his own jacket, folding it neatly over the room's only chair. Bucky rolls his eyes, supposing that the more expensive suit gets the attention, despite the fact Bucky doesn't own an iron and Loki will probably drag him along to one of his stupid rich people functions that just end in Loki pouring his frustration with the whole thing into hours of kind-of-tormented sex _again_ in the next few weeks.

Loki doesn't let Bucky undress him, not ever, and Bucky is only slightly resentful of this.

He watches as Loki carefully removes his cufflinks, laying them on the nightstand, before he unbuttons his shirt; meticulous, slow, and utterly aggravating. Bucky knows he could have Loki out of all of that in a few seconds and be dragging down the zipper of Loki's pants with his teeth shortly after that, but Loki has, unfortunately, never given him the opportunity to show off that particular skill. But, no, Loki is much too attached to folding his clothing and keeping it tidy and it's so aggravating that Bucky barely lets Loki lay his pants over the back of the chair before he's reaching for his hips, tugging him around so he can mouth at Loki's cock through his underwear.

Loki makes a strangled sound, hands dropping to cradle Bucky's head as Bucky sucks at the head through the thin cotton, breathing in the smell of Loki's skin. Too little stimulation and too much, and he keeps up the steady, measured exploration of Loki's still-clothed cock until Loki finally lets out a huff of frustration and shoves his underwear down with one hand, the other still threaded through Bucky's hair. Bucky takes a moment to look at him, rock hard and leaking and deep red, before he flicks his gaze up to meet Loki's and stretches out his tongue for a teasing lick over the head that makes Loki bite at the inside of his mouth. Loki's taste is slightly bitter but familiar by now and Bucky keeps dragging this out, pressing light, barely-there kisses to Loki's cock until his lips are shiny with pre-come and Loki is clearly gritting his teeth to stop himself from just grabbing a fistful of hair and fucking Bucky's mouth. That's happened in the past too, and of course Bucky can take it, but he kind of likes when Loki lets him take his time. 

Finally, finally, Loki mutters: "it's not like you're being paid by the hour." Bucky ignores the momentary sting - because, well, it's true, he's here because he's being paid to be, and it could just as easily be another guy here with Loki Laufeyson standing naked between his thighs with his cock dripping and his eyes wild and it's kind of good to remember that when Bucky's in danger of getting sentimental - and rolls his eyes at Loki before he obediently wraps his mouth around his cock, hollowing his cheeks to suck at the head hard enough to make Loki shiver and shut up and clench his fingers in Bucky's hair.

He curls the fingers of his right hand around the base of Loki's cock, squeezing enough to make Loki inhale sharply, and takes him deeper, steady and sure with the confidence of a guy who learned to deepthroat a _long_ time ago, listening to hitches in Loki's breathing and reminding himself it's pretty difficult to smirk with his mouth full. It's verging on impossible to make Loki vocal during sex, because either someone or a string of someones really did a number on him, but Bucky's learned how to read his silences and his gasps and all the little things that mean Loki's been wound up half the night and probably won't take long.

When Bucky's lips meet his fingers he starts sucking again, adding just the slightest scrape of teeth that Loki will never admit that he likes, and Loki's fingers are still vice-like in the back of his hair. He slides his mouth up and down the length of Loki's cock, tracing his tongue along the vein on the underside, and ignoring the urge to touch his own neglected cock because this isn't about him. His mouth is full of the salty-sharp taste of Loki's pre-come and his jaw will probably ache a little later, but right now all he can think about is Loki's shuddering, unsteady breathing, the way he occasionally meets Bucky's gaze and then has to look away, and it only takes a twist of his hand and another hard suck to make him come, head thrown back and hips jerking automatically. Bucky's too much of a professional to choke or even make a mess as he swallows, stroking his fingers lightly over Loki's wet cock as he rides out his orgasm, watching the flush that spreads over Loki's usually pale chest with something like satisfaction and _nothing_ like ownership. He finally draws back, licking swollen, sticky lips, and waits until the focus comes back into Loki's eyes.

Sometimes, clients compliment him at this point, or shower him with endearments that they don't actually mean, and Bucky's always been kind of relieved that Loki doesn't do that. He doesn't need to be told that he's amazing or that he's beautiful like this; he knows both things, and they're basically things that are necessary for his career.

Instead, Loki's eyes narrow slightly, and he orders: "pants. Off. Now."

Bucky mock-salutes him response, and lies back, unbuttoning the slacks and pulling them down over his hips. He didn't bother wearing underwear - he doesn't on these nights; if he did he would lose it quickly enough - and he wriggles as he slides out of them for the benefit of his audience. A smirk touches Loki's lips and then he turns to rooting through the pockets of his abandoned jacket while Bucky gets himself comfortable on the bed; he doesn't need to go all seductive and come-hither, but if he's in a bed with a headboard he's damn well going to use it. He bounces experimentally a couple of times.

"This thing's probably going to collapse when you fuck me into it," he remarks, while the bedsprings complain loudly. "Or at least deafen us both. Maybe that desk would be a better bet."

"Your complaints are noted," Loki says in his best snotty CEO voice, and Bucky suppresses a laugh as he spreads his legs out over the covers; mercifully not itchy, as so many cheap hotels are, and cool against his skin. He could be embarrassed when Loki turns back around and contemplates him for a moment, but embarrassment is something he lost a long time ago so he just arches an eyebrow and waits.

"I think we'll risk the bed," Loki says, dumping a bottle of lube and a couple of condoms onto the nightstand next to his cufflinks.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Bucky shrugs, spreading his thighs so there's space for Loki to lie between them as he crawls over him and kisses him, deep and dirty with a hand curled against the back of Bucky's neck. "Professional opinion," he mumbles into Loki's mouth, uncomfortably aware of how hard he is now he's naked and pinned underneath an equally naked Loki.

"Still noted," Loki tells him, licking his own taste out of Bucky's mouth and that shouldn't make Bucky's cock jump like that, it really shouldn't. He's got enough self-control not to hump against Loki, but he kind of wishes that he didn't. Loki's not helping anything; the hand that isn't pressed to the back of Bucky's neck, holding him in place while he brutally and thoroughly fucks his mouth with his tongue, is currently occupied with one of Bucky's nipples, twisting it just hard enough to make him lightheaded. Loki likes this far too much, undoing him for his own amusement, and if it wasn't for the fact Bucky can do it right back to him he thinks it would annoy him a lot more.

Loki finally goes back to worrying the line of Bucky's throat, light scrapes of teeth and swirls of his tongue that are maddening and amazing at the same time, while his hand trails lightly down Bucky's chest, touch barely-there and frustrating. He draws back enough to smirk, lips looking as red and sore as Bucky's feel, and Bucky forces himself to meet his gaze, not begging, not demanding, not even waiting; just here, just ready. Loki's eyes drop down to Bucky's cock, which is leaking all over his stomach because it's clearly not gotten the message that he's playing it about as cool as he can when he's being paid to open his legs for Loki, and his mouth curls into the slightest of smiles. He's finally sliding his hand down over Bucky's stomach, fucking _finally_ , when his fingers skim over Bucky's hipbone and he can't stop himself from flinching. There's a bruise there, still in the not-that-big-but-really-dark-purple stage, and Bucky can't even remember which client gave him it and it doesn't matter, but Loki stops moving and his mouth presses into a thin line.

After a moment, he pulls away from Bucky and reaches for the lube.

Bucky contemplates saying something like _occupational hazard_ , or pointing out that when Loki fucked him against a sink his hips were basically purple for the better part of a week, but he knows that will only piss Loki off because Loki is a ridiculous person about all of this. At some point Bucky thinks he might have to sit Loki down and explain just what this arrangement means, but then Loki presses back over him, all snaking limbs and demanding kisses, and it's much too easy to get lost in it all. The fact he never has to fake anything with Loki is probably something he should worry about at some point, but for now he concentrates on Loki's warm, filthy kisses and the touch of his hands all over him, mapping out his bare skin and scratching just enough to have Bucky arching up into Loki, heels slipping against the covers. He can hear the mattress complaining but he cares a lot less right now, hands pressed to the shifting skin of Loki's spine. The teasing brush of his cock against Loki's stomach isn't enough but Bucky is still just about dignified enough not to wrap a leg around Loki's waist and hump him frantically; it's not actually what he's here for, after all.

Loki trails his mouth along Bucky's jaw, scraping his teeth over his earlobe, and reaches for the lube where he's abandoned the small bottle. Bucky is determinedly not thinking about him carrying that around with him all night because, well, that doesn't help _anything_ , and he stays where he is, thighs splayed open and waiting. Some clients like him to arrive prepared so there's a minimum of waiting time, but Loki's never been like that, because the man's kind of a control freak. He watches Loki slicking up his fingers just a little more slowly than necessary, resisting the urge to tell him to hurry up because that's never worked in the past, and if he lets out a breath of relief as Loki pushes his right thigh up and out of the way and slides two fingers straight into him, well, he keeps it discreet. Loki is watching Bucky's face carefully, focusing on his reactions as he pushes his fingers deeper; it's a little tight but nothing Bucky can't handle and he rolls his hips a little to take him in even further until Loki's knuckles are pressed to the rim of his hole. Something flickers like a smile across Loki's reddened mouth before he curls his fingers a little, brushing over Bucky's prostate and that's not playing fair because Bucky can't help the little sound that escapes him or the way he automatically rocks down onto Loki's fingers, looking for more. Loki slides his fingers out a little before pushing them back in again, sending another set of sparks skittering up Bucky's spine. Loki has always been annoyingly good at this, with his distractingly long fingers and apparent willingness to spend a little too much time stretching Bucky open for his own entertainment.

Bucky sucks in a breath between his teeth when Loki abruptly scissors his fingers, and just like that Loki slides them out altogether, leaving Bucky feeling frustratingly empty, caught on the edge of a lost sensation.

"Loki..." he growls, while Loki feigns an innocent expression.

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, clearly going for virtuous and just sounding evil.

"Put. Them. Back," Bucky grits out, because fuck dignity right now, seriously, fuck it.

Loki nips at his mouth as he presses his fingers back into Bucky, scissoring them as he slides deeper to make Bucky whine for more in the back of his throat. He can feel his thighs shaking and he clenches his fingers in the hotel sheets, murmuring nonsense against Loki's lips until Loki twists a third finger inside him, no warning. He can't stop himself pushing into them, hips jerking frantically even as he wishes he wasn't too breathless to curse. Bucky does what his client wants, always, as long as it isn't going to result in permanent injury and as long as anything _complicated_ is arranged beforehand, and it works. It's just... sometimes it's easier when his clients don't care about what he's feeling; when it doesn't matter if he comes or not, when they aren't watching him with lazy, pupils-blown eyes. It's particularly difficult with Loki; there's that stretch of familiarity between them that isn't like actual dating or even actual fucking, because Loki pays him - very well - to be here and Bucky can never quite figure out how much of a show he's meant to be putting on. Loki's a mess of emotions and imagined inadequacies and probably needs therapy more than he needs to pay people to kiss him, but it's not Bucky's place to point that out and he doesn't even have the fine details; just the things he gleans from occasional looks in Loki's eyes or whispers on gossip websites. All of that usually leads to this: Bucky writhing on Loki's fingers while trying to work out just whose benefit this is actually for.

Bucky clenches around Loki's fingers in a vain attempt to keep them inside him as Loki starts dragging them out so slowly that it's torture. He knows they'll be replaced by Loki's cock soon enough - he can feel that Loki's been getting hard again while fingering him - but he hates the moments of slick emptiness that he's left with. Loki shushes him as he sits back a little, reaching for the lube that they've gotten all over the covers by now, but instead of also grabbing a condom he just pours yet more over his fingers, gives Bucky a swift grin that's nothing short of evil, and pushes his thighs further apart before sliding four fingers into him. All the air rushes out of Bucky's chest and his first instinct is to pull away from where Loki's still spreading him open, crooking his fingers to press them teasingly against his prostate, but his hips are jerking into Loki's touch without his permission and he can hear the sounds he's making, little whining noises that catch in his throat while his hands and feet skid against the sheets. 

"Please," he breathes, not even sure what he's asking for but still dimly aware that Loki likes it when he's in complete control, "please, _fuck_ , please."

Loki smoothes a kiss to the inside of Bucky's knee and it's startlingly intimate; "calm down," he warns, and Bucky manages a handful of calming breaths before Loki brushes his free hand across his stomach and then bends his knuckles so he can slip his thumb inside him.

The headboard bangs against the wall and Bucky screams, arching back off the pillows and his whole body shivering. Loki's still got his hand pressed to Bucky's stomach, almost soothing and already too much, and he's murmuring something messy between his teeth that Bucky can't make out because his ears are roaring and the mattress is screeching.

When he can finally catch a breath again, Bucky hisses out: "you _dick_. You absolute fucking _dick_."

Loki's got all five fingers inside him, but his knuckles are still pressed to the rim of Bucky's hole and he knows this isn't even done yet.

"You are supposed to _warn_ me," he continues, ragged, "I am suppose to _agree_ to this, why are you such a dick, oh god."

Loki's response is to wriggle his fingers and Bucky's back skids against the covers as he tries to pull away, tries to push into them more. "If you want me to stop then I'll stop," he murmurs, and of _course_ Loki can pay lip service to that, when Bucky's already got half his hand inside him and his stomach is a frantic mess of pre-come and he'd probably agree to anything just to keep Loki touching him.

"Such a dick," he breathes out, the words wet on his sore lips, and tilts his hips a little.

After a moment, Loki's hand is gone from his stomach, reaching for more lube, and Bucky sucks in a breath between his teeth, flexing his aching fingers which are still curled into his palms. His thighs are shaking, spread as wide as he can keep them, and he keeps watching Loki's expression of concentration, eyelashes casting shadows down his pale cheeks. He pours more lube over his knuckles, the excess spilling onto the covers and sliding down the crack of Bucky's ass.

"Ready?" Loki asks, eyes too dark and Bucky has to look away, turning his face into the pillows.

" _Now_ you start asking," he mumbles, but manages to nod, gritting his teeth in preparation.

After a slightly too long moment, Loki twists his hand and _pushes_ , pushes until his knuckles start to slide into Bucky's body. Bucky can't stop the little trapped whimpers that spill between his lips; it's too much, too tight, too much pressure, and he'll tell Loki to stop as soon as he can breathe, he will. 

"Loki," he sobs out, "Loki, Jesus, _fuck_ , please, _fuck_."

And then, somehow, it's easier, the widest part of Loki's hand presses into him and then all he can feel is full. He can feel himself trying to adjust, clenching around Loki, but he feels so stuffed, so vulnerable, all he can do is restlessly twist his hips and suck jagged breaths into his raw lungs.  
When he finally risks turning his head and opening his eyes, Loki is just watching him; watching him laid open and whining for more, for less, for everything, and the look in Loki's eyes doesn't help anything, sending a rush of frantic lust through him and hardening his cock where it's been flagging from the pain.

Slow, deliberate, Loki keeps his gaze locked on him as he curls his fingers into a fist and presses _upwards_. Bucky's head tips back so far that he thinks he hurts something in his neck, and he doesn't care, unable to stop himself from pushing back into Loki, choking and desperate. Loki kneels up over him, changing the angle a little, and slides his hand out enough to shove it straight back in, hard and perfect. He swallows Bucky's shout into a bruising, messy kiss that Bucky doesn't have the breath for and can't bring himself to turn away from, sinking teeth into Loki's lower lip and canting his hips as Loki continues to fist him, deep and relentless and claiming. Later, Bucky knows he's going to feel this, feel this for a _long_ time, but right now all he can concentrate on his the wet slide of Loki's mouth, the way Loki's knuckles are brushing across his prostate, and he manages to hook his knee around Loki's waist and keep him as close as he can, panting _more_ against Loki's lips.

It's clumsy and messy when Loki wraps his other hand around his cock, and the sudden stimulation after so long is enough to make Bucky bite into Loki's mouth, forgetting anything about being gentle or even about keeping Loki happy as he shifts frantically, not sure whether to push up into his hand or back onto his fist, and everything is going blurry and hazy, his own breathing too loud in his ears, and Loki pulls back enough to look at him with eyes blown wide with arousal, the dark wreck of his hair falling into his eyes, and twist his hand inside him, merciless and incredible and oh, Bucky might be Loki's for a price but he's going to find some way to make him pay for this later.

"Come for me," Loki whispers, licking at the corner of Bucky's aching mouth, squeezing Bucky's cock harder and _grinding_ his fist inside him and that, oh, that's enough and Buck clenches his eyes shut as he comes, his whole body shuddering and wrecked underneath Loki, nonsense spilling off his lips.

By the time he comes back into himself Loki has slid his hand out, leaving Bucky feeling stretched and empty and sticky-wet, and is hurriedly tugging at his own cock, flushed and leaking above his fingers.

"I can-" Bucky begins groggily, but Loki shakes his head, biting Bucky's earlobe and it's too much after an orgasm like that; his skin still feels like it's on fire and his muscles ache from being wound tense for so long. He stays where he is, one leg still wrapped around Loki's waist, their skin sticking together with sweat and come, as Loki climaxes again, hot and thick across Bucky's stomach. He collapses into Bucky, panting against his throat, and Bucky winds the fingers of one hand into Loki's damp hair. He feels ruined, wrecked; all he wants to do is sleep for forever, or maybe take a shower first.

"Next time, you fucking _ask_ ," he mumbles before he forgets. 

"You enjoyed it," Loki responds, lips moving against his pulse, lube-slick fingers stroking over Bucky's hip. Everything about this is kind of disgusting and Bucky still can't bring himself to move. The hotel will probably have to burn the covers later, or at least boil them for ages.

"Not the point," Bucky tells him. He turns his head and catches Loki's mouth in a kiss; sloppy, sore and final, enjoying the silence and the bone-deep exhaustion that comes from the kind of sex he doesn't have very often, and that's a dangerous thought he refuses to see through to its conclusion.  
Loki pulls away first.

"You can have the second shower," he announces, back to privileged and bratty and all the things that make Loki who he is, and Bucky nods, untangling his limbs and only wincing a little when Loki literally _peels_ away. He rolls onto his stomach, cuddling into a sweat-damp pillow and ignoring the way the movement sends twinging pains through his ass; that can be a problem for later.

"Leave me some hot water," he mumbles.

He doesn't know if he imagines the light fingertips that stroke down his spine, lingering for a long moment; either way, he's asleep before Loki's even turned the shower on.


End file.
